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Finally, at the age of 47, in 1990, my search for a delectable fruit came to fruition...in Calcutta.
My trips to Calcutta, mostly as an escort to sundry sisters and brothers-in-law and nephews and nieces, followed this invariant routine:
Steel Express at Kharagpur in the morning, going up the First Class Waiting Room Balcony at Howrah Station to show off the majestic Hooghly River with its Howrah Bridge, boats, launches, and landmarks; Maidan, Birla Planetarium, Victoria Memorial, Maidan again for a picnic lunch and horse ride for kids, Nehru Children's Museum, Metro; back by Steel Express in the evening gobbling Mishti Doi and falling ill....
Yet, I wanted to give my wife and kid son a 4-day, 3-night holiday at Calcutta during Christmas week (the only pleasant time in Calcutta) to move around lazily in trams, autos, taxis, Metro; eating here and there and seeing sights just for fun.
But the problem was finding a safe, comfortable, and affordable hotel to stay in South Calcutta (the only civilized part of Calcutta).
Once in 1986, I went reconnoitering all along the Rashbehari Avenue by walk trying to find a reasonable hotel to stay in. There was no internet then and I had to walk all the way asking folks to guide me.
And I found NONE, absolutely none,...all of them were booked for months in advance. Every good thing was scarce in Calcutta except Rosogollas and Mermaids.
Finally I mentioned my desire to my friend DB (he and his wife were from Calcutta). He solved my problem...his father-in-law (a retired High Court Judge) had a cousin who ran a sort of exclusive 'home from home' by the tram terminus at one end of the Rashbehari Avenue.
So we booked that place during the Christmas Week in 1990.
And we had a wonderful 3 day holiday going around South and Central Calcutta...never ventured to go North (which my friend DB said was the REAL Calcutta but his wife from Ballygunge disputed).
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The last night before we left our residence in Calcutta, we saw dozens of women with North Bengal features squatting by the roadside selling basketfuls of inviting fruit. My son (9) wanted me to buy some but I was demurring. He insisted, and to please him I bought half a dozen and took them to our room.
We finished them in 5 minutes and ran down and bought a dozen more.
We finished them in 10 minutes and ran down and bought two dozen more.
We finished them in 15 minutes and ran down but found all the women had left the place.
My son and I shared the lot more or less equally like the Walrus and Carpenter:
Tweedledee smiled gently, and began again:
“The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright—
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.
The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done—
‘It’s very rude of him,’ she said,
‘To come and spoil the fun!’
The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying over head—
There were no birds to fly.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
‘If this were only cleared away,’
They said, ‘it would be grand!’
‘If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,’ the Walrus said,
‘That they could get it clear?’
‘I doubt it,’ said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.
‘O Oysters, come and walk with us!’
The Walrus did beseech.
‘A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.’
The eldest Oyster looked at him.
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head—
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
But four young oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat—
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn’t any feet.
Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more—
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.
‘The time has come,’ the Walrus said,
‘To talk of many things:
Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—
Of cabbages—and kings—
And why the sea is boiling hot—
And whether pigs have wings.’
‘But wait a bit,’ the Oysters cried,
‘Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!’
‘No hurry!’ said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.
‘A loaf of bread,’ the Walrus said,
‘Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed—
Now if you’re ready Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.’
‘But not on us!’ the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue,
‘After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!’
‘The night is fine,’ the Walrus said
‘Do you admire the view?
‘It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!’
The Carpenter said nothing but
‘Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf—
I’ve had to ask you twice!’
‘It seems a shame,’ the Walrus said,
‘To play them such a trick,
After we’ve brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!’
The Carpenter said nothing but
‘The butter’s spread too thick!’
‘I weep for you,’ the Walrus said.
‘I deeply sympathize.’
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size.
Holding his pocket handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
‘O Oysters,’ said the Carpenter.
‘You’ve had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?’
But answer came there none—
And that was scarcely odd, because
They’d eaten every one.”
“I like the Walrus best,” said Alice: “because you see he was a little sorry for the poor oysters.”
“He ate more than the Carpenter, though,” said Tweedledee. “You see he held his handkerchief in front, so that the Carpenter couldn’t count how many he took: contrariwise.....
“That was mean!” Alice said indignantly. “Then I like the Carpenter best—if he didn’t eat so many as the Walrus.”
“But he ate as many as he could get,” said Tweedledum....
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